


Hungry Like the Wolf

by ohthislove



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Blood Kink, Choking, Dark!Diego Hargreeves, F/M, Knifeplay, Obsessive Behavior, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Possessive Behavior, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Self-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:29:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29120487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohthislove/pseuds/ohthislove
Summary: Women who closely resemble you are being brutally stabbed, and a man has been watching you like a hawk. Could they somehow be related?
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	Hungry Like the Wolf

You weren’t sure when you first started to notice it.

Maybe it was when you were on your way to work, rushing down the sidewalk. You narrowly dodged people walking the opposite way, shooting you glares as you passed by them. You muttered apologies under your breath, never pausing long enough to make any of them truly count.

You passed by a newsstand, and the front page of a newspaper caught your eye. You slowed your step and got closer. Your eyes scanned over the headline printed in big, bold letters:

_KILLER STRIKES AGAIN IN LONG LINE OF GRUESOME STABBINGS_

You picked up the newspaper. Right underneath the headline was a photo of the victim. It was a woman. The longer you stared at her face, a sense of unease settled in your gut. There was something vaguely and oddly familiar about it, and yet you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Hey, are you gonna pay for that, lady?” Your head snapped up to meet the eye of the man running the newsstand. “This isn’t a library.”

You immediately put the newspaper back amongst the stacks. “Sorry,” you murmured. You ducked your head and continued along the sidewalk, hoisting the strap of your messenger bag higher on your shoulder.

You brushed off the pit that had formed in your gut. New York City was teeming with crime; you had grown used to the grisly reports long ago. Any murderer who wanted to make a name for himself ought to pick a different city to stand out.

–

“Again.”

You raised your fists in front of your face. You didn’t take your eyes off of the boxing pads hovering in front of you. You took a step forward and aimed directly for them. Your right fist made contact with the pad before you immediately snapped your hand back. Pain blossomed through your knuckles. You hissed and shook your hand, trying to ease the sensation.

“Good.” Your personal trainer, Dani, nodded approvingly. “Again.”

You hunched over with your hands on your knees, panting to catch your breath. “We’ve been at it for the past thirty minutes.”

“Don’t look now, but someone else has had their eyes on you for at least that long.” She smirked, looking past you.

You stood up and furrowed your brow. Immediately ignoring her warning, you craned your neck to look behind you and followed her line of sight. Sure enough, she was right. Someone _did_ have their eyes on you, that someone being Diego Hargreeves.

He sat against the wall, his legs spread wide and his arms crossed over his broad chest. You locked eyes. He wasn’t fazed when you caught him looking. He unabashedly continued to stare at you, the corners of his lips curled into the hint of a smirk.

You quickly averted your gaze back to Dani, your cheeks heating up. You hoped you could pass off the blush as a consequence of your workout.

Dani knew better. “I told you not to look.” She chuckled at your expense.

You cast your eyes downwards. “I hate you,” you mumbled.

She laughed harder, slapping a hand on your shoulder. “I think that means it’s time for a break.” She slipped off the boxing pads. “There’s a coffee place around the corner. You up for it?”

“Yep.” _Anything to get out of here._

You unwrapped your hands and grabbed your towel, wiping the sweat from your brow before draping it over your shoulders. You and Dani gathered your belongings and ducked under the ropes of the boxing ring.

You followed Dani around the outside of the ring. You didn’t realize what she was deliberately doing until it was already too late and you were ensnared in her trap.

“Good work up there, ladies,” Diego called out to you as you passed by him.

Dani grinned at him. “Thanks, Diego.”

He shifted his gaze to you, and his eyes lingered on you as you walked away. His eyes were so dark, they didn’t exactly match the smile on his lips. He winked at you and licked his lips.

You shivered and looked away. You uncapped your water and downed half the bottle in one swig, nearly coughing from drinking so fast. Dani stifled a laugh, and you shot her a glare, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Diego Hargreeves was somewhat of a fixture at the gym. From what you knew, Al, the owner, let him reside in the basement in the boiler room as long as he mopped the floors after closing. During the day, he played detective, catching the bad guys and putting them behind bars. He was well liked by people at the gym, although you had never once seen him train there.

You had, however, sensed his eyes on you more and more often recently. He was always just lurking in the shadows, watching as you moved around the gym, never saying anything to you. It was unnerving, the focused concentration in his eyes as he watched you work, worse than any lecherous leers you had gotten from drunks walking down the street. You knew you should confront him, you just didn’t know how to go about it.

Dani, however, had other ideas.

“Aren’t you ever going to say hi?” She walked down the street next to you, bundled up against the cold. “He clearly likes you.”

You wrapped your scarf tighter around your neck, wishing you could disappear into it. “Then shouldn’t he be the one to say hi first?”

“Don’t be like that. He’s a good guy.” She nudged your side with her elbow. “Easy on the eyes, too.”

You swatted her away. “I hardly know him.”

“Isn’t that what dates are for?” She quirked a brow at you. “To get to know each other?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re always trying to set me up.”

“Forgive me for trying to help you get some.” She held her hands up. “In that case, guilty as charged.”

You laughed along with her, but your laughter quickly ceased. Your face fell. “I don’t like the way he looks at me.” It was like he was undressing you with his eyes, but worse than that. “It’s like he wants to eat me alive.”

She smirked at you. “I could use a man who looked at me like that.”

You entered the little coffee shop and ordered. You waited until your names were called before grabbing your drinks and retreating to a table in the back corner. You took your seat, unraveling all of the layers you had put on to shield yourself from the cold.

“I swear you avoid any man who shows interest in you like the plague,” Dani teased you, sipping her latte. “When are you going to give in and settle down? Aren’t you bored? Aren’t you lonely?”

You shrugged sheepishly. “I have my work and my hobbies. It keeps me busy.”

She snorted. “Spoken like a true workaholic.”

Suddenly, a voice on the TV in the corner drew your attention. Both you and Dani looked up to watch it.

“In the ongoing investigation as to who is behind the stabbings, another murder was discovered last night by Detective Eudora Patch,” a professional-looking woman sitting behind a desk said. “Her name was Jennifer Springley. She is the twelfth murder authorities have found in the past two months as the killings appear to have been increasing in frequency.”

“Holy shit,” Dani muttered under her breath.

“I know,” you agreed. “This is getting out of hand.”

“No, not that.” She pointed up at the screen. “You notice anything similar?”

You looked up to see a photo of Jennifer alongside photos of the eleven other victims. Seeing them all lined up side by side made your breath catch in your throat. Their hair, their eyes, their lips… They were all distinctly the same and terrifyingly familiar.

Dani softly said your name. “They all look like you.”

–

Music blasted in your ears as you smacked the hell out of the punching bag in front of you. Your knuckles hurt, and your muscles were sore, but you didn’t stop until it was swinging off the chain it hung from, threatening to break and plummet to the ground in an explosion of sound.

You usually went to the gym after work to blow off some steam, but lately you’ve been going twice as often as was normal. You’ve been on edge ever since you saw that news report at the coffee shop: triple-checking the lock on your door when you’re home, glancing over your shoulder when walking late at night, clutching your keys between your fingers in case you had to fight off an assailant. You had brushed it off as a coincidence at the time. After all, every killer had a type. But that didn’t stop you from worrying and biting your nails down to the quick.

It was a good thing your go-to hobby was boxing. One thing was for sure: if anyone tried to catch you off guard, you weren’t going down without a fight.

You heard a muffled voice over the music, and a hand waved in front of your face. You stepped back and ripped your earbuds out of your ears, not bothering to pause the song. “What?” you snapped a little too harshly.

You no longer regretted your tone when you saw who had interrupted you. Diego stood next to you, a wide smile plastered on his face. “I asked you if you wanted a sparring partner.”

You swallowed hard. It was the first time he had ever addressed you directly, and this time you had no choice but to answer him. “I don’t think it would be a fair fight.” You eyed the knives strapped to his back.

He noticed what you were eying, and his smirk grew. “Because of the knives or because I’d beat you?”

You shrugged carelessly. “Take your pick.”

“Then I think we both know what I’d choose.” He rested one arm on the punching bag. “If you don’t want to spar then, maybe you’d like some tips.”

He struck up position. “When you go in for a punch, you put too much momentum into it.” He mimed a punch at the punching bag. “Anyone could dodge you, and you’d just topple over all on your own. You gotta keep your weight on both feet.”

You pursed your lips. “Thanks for the tip.”

He stood up straight. “Any time.” He looked apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. You looked like you were in the zone.”

“It’s fine,” you mumbled.

He rested one arm on the punching bag. “What’s got you all worked up?”

You furrowed your brow, confused as to why he was still interrogating you. You looked around and noticed that outside the windows was dark, and there was no one else in the gym. You must have been so distracted, you lost track of time. Now, it was just you and Diego.

You looked back at him. “Sorry, am I keeping you from doing your job?”

“What? Oh, no.” He dismissed you with a wave of his hand. “Besides, I wouldn’t mind the company while I work.”

He stepped close to you, and you were suddenly aware of his close proximity to you in your lack of clothes. You were just in a sports bra and shorts, your usual boxing attire.

You backed away from him and glanced down at your Fitbit on your wrist. “Actually, it’s getting late.” You stooped down to gather your things. “I should be getting home.”

He furrowed his brow. “Are you going to walk? At this time of night?”

You shoved your arms into the sleeves of your jacket, hurrying to get out of there. “I live just a couple blocks away.”

He shook his head. “Nuh-uh. I’ll drive you.”

You blinked at him. “That’s really not necessary.”

“Please? It’ll make me feel better, what with all those murders recently.”

You froze, your blood going cold. “Murders?”

“Yeah?” He quirked a brow at you. “All those stabbings on the news? You haven’t seen them?”

You nodded. “I have.”

“Then you should know it’s not safe out there for a girl like you.”

You folded your arms over your chest. “I can handle myself.”

He looked you up and down and laughed. “I’m sure you can.” He reached out and grabbed your hand. “Please, just humor me then.”

You stared at him. It was clear he wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, even if that meant hauling you into his car himself. And you’d rather not push him past that point.

You slowly nodded. “Alright.” _Let’s get this over with._

His face broke out into a big smile. “Great. My car’s parked just out front.”

He kept his hand on yours as he led you out of the gym. His touch felt hot, like a brand on your skin. He let go to open the door to the passenger’s seat for you. You got in his car, and he rounded the front to get in on the other side.

You sat with your arms crossed and your bag in your lap, staring straight out the windshield. He tried to make conversation with you as he drove down the city streets, about where you grew up, what brought you to New York, what you did for a living. You indulged him with one word answers, his voice filling the gaps in between. You weren’t exactly eager to get to know him.

He pulled up in front of your apartment building and shifted the car into park. He looked over at you, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other rested on the console between you, like he was expecting something.

“Thank you for the ride,” you said what you thought he wanted to hear. You shrunk back towards the door, grabbing the handle.

“Don’t mention it.” He smiled at you a little too widely. His gaze was dark. “Let me walk you to your door.”

You didn’t have much of a choice as he got out of his car the same time you did. He followed you into your building and up the stairs to your floor. You walked down the dimly lit hall. You didn’t live in the nicest area of town, which was a given for anyone making as much as you did. But the lights flickering above you and the stained carpet seemed even more nefarious than usual with him behind you.

You stopped in front of the door to your apartment. You dug your keys out of your bag and twisted them in the lock until you heard a click. You pushed your door open and looked back at him, wondering if he would wait until he was in your apartment to kill you or settle for here in the hall with no one around.

He smiled at you. “Get a good night’s rest.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Anytime you need a ride home, don’t hesitate to ask me.”

You forced a smile back at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You stepped inside and closed the door shut, immediately turning the locks. You backed away and ran your hands through your hair. Maybe you were letting your paranoia get the best of you. He seemed like a nice enough guy, if not a little oblivious and couldn’t take a hint. Being single for so long must have made you cynical.

Suddenly, you got a shiver down your spine, like you were being watched. You turned around and pressed your hands against the door, peering through the peephole. What you saw on the other side made you gasp.

He was still there, standing in front of your door, just staring. He was no longer smiling. He had that same look in his eyes he had while watching you in the gym, except ten times worse. It was intense. He looked like he was deciding something and he hadn’t yet made up his mind, still weighing his options.

You slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your breathing in case he heard you. He stood there for what felt like hours. You wondered if he could sense you on the other side. You were sure not even the three locks and the chain on your door would be enough to keep him out if he wanted in.

Whatever he had been deciding, he must’ve come to a conclusion, because suddenly he retreated down the hallway, his footsteps so quiet you wouldn’t have heard them unless you had been listening for them.

When you were sure he was gone, you spun around and pressed your back against the door. You slid down it, sinking to the floor and hugging your knees to your chest. The fear that seized you was made even worse when you realized you hadn’t told him your address when he drove you home.

–

You marched through the gym with a determined look on your face. You ignored people you usually saw who greeted you. You didn’t stop at the locker rooms like you normally did. You kept on through the main area of the gym, looking as if you were on a mission and nothing could stand in your way.

You knew it was Diego.

You had stayed up all night, staring out the peephole, waiting for him to return when he thought you were asleep and break in. You didn’t catch a wink of shut eye. You were glued to the door, going through all the possible scenarios in your head of how you would defend yourself. He never came.

But you knew it was him. There was no other explanation for his peculiar behavior. He had had his eye on you for months now. You were clearly his next target. You were surprised he had waited this long to make his move.

Or maybe he liked watching his prey panic. He drove them to the brink of madness and, once they were vulnerable, found the perfect time to strike. You suppressed a shudder.

You needed to find something to confirm your suspicions. Plus, if you were going to try to turn him into the police, you couldn’t show up empty-handed. You needed proof, and quickly, before he got bored of toying with you.

Lucky for you, you knew where the dragon’s den was.

You turned down the hallway away from the gym and bumped straight into a chest. Your heart leaped in your ribcage when you thought you had run into the exact person you were trying to avoid, but relief washed over you when you looked up and saw Al, the gym owner.

“Whoa, where you going?” He raised his brows.

“Um, I was looking for the bathroom,” you quickly fibbed, fidgeting with your fingers.

He narrowed his eyes at you, but if he noticed you were off, he didn’t mention it. He pointed behind you. “Over there, on your left.”

“Thanks. I must’ve gotten turned around.” You laughed awkwardly. “Hey, by the way, have you seen Diego around today?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, kid. He’s out on detective business right now.” He smirked at you. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear you were looking for him, though.”

He passed by you. You waited until he was out of your sight to continue down the hall. Hopefully, when he told Diego, you’d be long gone and at the police station by then.

You spotted the door to the boiler room. You walked over to it, looking both ways down the hall to make sure no one was coming your way. Then, you grabbed the knob and twisted it. Fortunately, it was unlocked.

You slowly pushed the door open with an ominous creak. Light from the hallway spilled into the room enveloped in darkness. You reached inside and felt around for a light switch. Once you found it, you flipped it on, flooding the room with light.

It wasn’t exactly the villain’s lair or dungeon you had expected. Instead, what was most surprising was that it looked like a teenage boy’s room in his parent’s basement rather than a place that belonged to a grown man, full of organized clutter from the floors to the walls.

You wasted no time closing the door behind you and going through his stuff (and there was a lot to go through). You searched high and low, through his drawers, his shelves, under his bed, being careful not to leave any sign you had been there at all. You weren’t quite sure what you were looking for, exactly. A bloody knife, maybe? A severed limb, perhaps? You were sure you’d know when you saw it.

After rifling through all his belongings, you came up with nothing to show for it. You were starting to feel crazy. Had you misjudged him? Jumped to conclusions? You had officially let your paranoia reach new heights. Regardless, you were still getting a restraining order. He gave you the heebie jeebies.

You made to move towards the door when your foot caught on the rug in the middle of the room. It got messed up in the process, revealing what looked like a square indent in the floor. You furrowed your brow and bent down, feeling along the edges of the indent until you were able to lift it up. It was a secret compartment in the floor.

You peered into the hole in the floor. There were a bunch of assorted bracelets and necklaces and rings inside. You reached down and picked up the one closest to the top. It was a heart-shaped locket inscribed with a J. Your mouth went dry. It wasn’t hard to figure out who the J stood for.

_Jennifer Springley, the twelfth victim._

There was something on the locket. It looked like rust. You scraped at it with your nail, and it flaked off. Your eyes went wide when you realized what it really was: dried blood.

You dropped the locket as if it had stung you. You looked down and counted twelve in total. You scrambled back from the compartment, fighting the urge to retch. They were souvenirs.

“Holy shit,” you whispered.

“Find what you were looking for?”

You craned your neck to see Diego standing in the doorway behind you. He wasn’t smiling. He closed the door behind you with a slam that reverberated in your ears. You didn’t think you had ever heard a louder sound in your life.

He walked down the steps, his footsteps against the concrete like the ticks of a bomb about to go off. “You weren’t supposed to see those.” He stopped before you, and his shadow loomed over you. “Put them back.”

You hurried to replace the top on the hidden compartment and covered it with the rug. You stood up, shrinking away when you found yourself too close to him. “I can pretend I didn’t see anything.”

He took a step towards you. His eyes seemed to devour any light that hit them, like two blackholes in the center of his face. “You and I both know that’s not true.”

You knew he was backing you up against the wall, but you had no choice as he walked towards you, trying to put more distance between him and yourself. “Please, don’t kill me,” you murmured, your voice impossibly small.

He stopped in his tracks, arching a brow at you. “You think I’m going to kill you?”

Your back met the brick wall as you froze, your knees threatening to buckle underneath you. You were too scared to answer. Maybe he was still playing with you.

Suddenly, his face softened. He gently said your name. “I could never hurt you.” He reached out, and you flinched when he grabbed your shoulders. “That’s what I needed them for.”

You stared up at him, slowly growing more and more perplexed. He looked at you with so much adoration, almost doting like a lovesick puppy. “I don’t understand,” you stammered.

He cupped your face in his hands. Your skin crawled at his touch. He leaned down to stare directly into your eyes. “I knew it from the moment I saw you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “You were the one for me.”

He ran his hand over your jaw and down your neck. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about how beautiful you are.” He ran the tip of his finger along your throat, tracing an invisible line you couldn’t see. “About peeling back your skin and seeing what your veins look like, about holding your beating heart in my hand.” He settled his hand right over your heart. “About what color your blood is.”

Your heart was racing faster than the flap of a hummingbird’s wings, and you were sure he could feel it. This barely restrained psychopath had murdered other women to satisfy his urge to torture you, and now you were trapped alone in a boiler room with him.

You were supremely and royally fucked.

You mustered a thimble of courage and used it to push his shoulders, catching him off guard and causing him to stumble back a step. “Get away from me,” you snapped.

He raised his brows. “So, that’s how it’s gonna be.” He smirked. “Fine, I’m up for a little sparring match.” He paced back and forth in front of you, like a lion pacing the length of its cage. “Try to make it to the door, or – maybe that’s too much,” he taunted you. “To start, try making it past me.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your side. The knives strapped to his back glinted in the light. There was no possible way you could overpower him, especially if he decided to fight dirty with his supernatural abilities. You were outmatched. But, there might still be a way you could slip past him, and if you got enough of a head start, you could make it to the gym before he caught you. Regardless, you weren’t going to make it easy on him.

You stepped forward and swung your fist, aiming for his jaw. He easily sidestepped you, but your momentum continued, and you sprawled out on the floor.

He darkly chuckled above you. “Looks like you should’ve taken my advice.”

He curled his fingers into the back of your shirt and hauled you towards the twin bed in the corner. You flailed your legs, trying to grab onto anything you could and shrieking at the top of your lungs.

He tossed you onto the bed, and you bounced on the mattress. He immediately crawled on top of you before you could sit up. You bared your teeth and reeled your arm back to scratch at his cheek. He grabbed your hand before it could make contact and pinned it by your head.

He whipped out a knife and held it to your throat. “I would recommend keeping still, or I can make this worse for you.” He dug the edge of the blade into your skin enough to sting. “I wouldn’t make a sound, either.”

You swallowed hard. He had you beat. All you could do now was lie still and take whatever he gave you. Hopefully, he decided to have mercy on you.

He moved the knife down your body and started his work on undressing you. He straddled your thighs and tore down the center of your shirt, splitting it in half with a gut wrenching rip. You sank your teeth into your lips to keep in the sobs that wanted to spill out.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” he told you as he cut the straps on your bra. “I was going to win you over eventually. But now you’ve found out, so I guess there’s no turning back.”

You scowled at him. Part of you was pretty sure he didn’t mind taking a shortcut to get what he wanted.

He let go of your hand to strip you of your shirt and bra, discarding your tattered clothes on the floor. His eyes were glued to your heaving chest as your breath quickened, flushed pink. You resisted the urge to cover yourself with your arms.

“Look at you,” he whispered huskily. He cupped your tit in his hand, his thumb stroking your nipple until it stiffened to a peak. “So beautiful.”

He was practically salivating at this point. He looked hungry, like a wolf that had been starved and kept in captivity its entire life until now, when it had finally been set free.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.” He held the knife above your tit. “I need to taste you.”

Before you could protest, he pressed the knife into your skin. He made a neat slice right underneath your collar bone, about an inch long and just deep enough to draw blood. Your back arched on the bed, and you couldn’t hold back the pained yelp that escaped your throat.

“Shhh,” he shushed you. He pinched your nipple roughly, and you went still. He dipped down and ran his tongue along the cut he had made, lapping up the slow trickle of blood leaking out. He pulled away, red staining his lips. “You taste even better than I dreamed of. I can’t wait to mark you up more.”

He placed the flat of the knife underneath the button on your jeans and popped it off, shoving them down your legs. He cut off your panties and ripped them off, baring yourself to him. He tossed your underwear and the knife to the floor. Once he had gotten a taste of you, it was clear he was desperate for more.

He grabbed hold of your legs and spread them wider for him. He spat on your cunt, using his finger to spread his spit around your entrance. Your eyes went wide when you realized what was about to happen, and the fight was ignited inside of you once more.

You tried to sit up and push him off. “Stop! Don’t–”

He grabbed hold of your wrists and pinned you back against the mattress. “What a shame,” he tsked. “You were being so good for me.”

He shifted so he held both your hands in one. You wriggled in his grasp, but he remained strong. He used his free hand to undo his fly and push his boxers and jeans down his thick thighs in one swoop. He stroked his achingly hard cock dripping with precum before positioning himself at your entrance.

“I need to claim you,” he growled, rumbling deep in his chest, before he pressed into you.

You whimpered as he forced himself inside of you. He didn’t stop until the head of his cock pushed against your cervix. He didn’t give you time to adjust, pulling back only to sharply snap his hips against yours again.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his face contorted with pleasure. He buried his face in the crook of your neck. “You feel so good.”

He set a fast pace, hammering into you. You squeezed your eyes shut, tears streaming down your cheeks, and bit your lip so hard the copper taste of blood flooded your mouth. His hand closed around your throat, and you gasped.

“Look at me,” he commanded, giving your throat an experimental squeeze. “I want you to look at me when I come in you.”

Your eyes shot open and were met with his dark ones. He stared down at you as he rammed into you. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and his chest was pressed flush against yours. His breath hit your lips in small bursts of air as he panted. You could tell he was close when his thrusts grew sloppy and uneven.

He spilled into you with a growl, fucking his seed deep inside of you. He rested his forehead against yours and softly kissed your parted lips, a contrast from how roughly he had treated you before. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, licking the blood from your self-inflicted wound.

He pulled out of you, but his hand remained on your neck. “I own you now.” His dark eyes bored into yours. “You belong to me.”

You could only hope he never tired of you.


End file.
